A Drink or Two
by BatCat
Summary: Loki's sister, Gwendolyn  OC , finds the perfect way to cheer Loki up. Rated T because I'm paranoid and there's drinking in there.


_My Cheer Up Loki Contest Entry_

_Note: The character Gwendolyn is an OC, but the name is from the daughter of Odin in Odin's Sphere, which is a video game, if y'all don't know. _

_I do not own anything._

_Another note: This is in Gwendolyn's POV. And it takes place on Midgard. And it's a slight St. Trinian's crossover, although it isn't mentioned much. Also, this takes place in England, where the legal drinking age is 18, jsyk._

**A Drink or Two**

It's the little things that anger me. Little things such as me dozing off when my brother storms in angry again.

"Gwendolyn! Where did you put my staff?" He yells.

It shakes me up. "I dunno, Loki. I'm trying to sleep. Why are you blaming me?"

"You were the only one here!"

Damn. I also forgot that my school girls were here. Using my house. As a distillery. For Vodka. Maybe one of them misplaced it? Oh, I forgot to mention, I go to school, St. Trinian's, for nothing but killing boredom. What the hell else is girl who looks like a teenager supposed to do? Besides, it's a fun-ish school, and I get to obliterate things in my spare time. I am out of school and it is being renovated, so they moved their base of operations here. It is a mansion after all. Don't ask me how I got it. It involves a boring plot of mischief.

Anyways, I'm getting carried away. I must continue.

So, he kept on yelling at me. I heard something about stealing a power source and healing his injuries to the fullest, and maybe a mumble about finding Sigyn. I really do not know why he needed his staff. He could use a desert eagle or something. That's what my "half-asleep" logic is telling me. Oh, how intelligent.

"Go away," I mumble.

Then, he storms off.

He has been in an off-set mood lately. Well, actually, he's like this all the time. Father telling him that he is not good enough, everyone looking down upon him. I happen to be the only one, besides his wife, who sided with him all of these years. He has always been my favorite brother. He never treated me like I was a prisoner, like father did by keeping me in my room all of the time, sometimes locked up, because I was weak, then I left because of all of that, and -

There I go again, rambling on like a old, mad woman.

I am sitting in my recliner, when I get a brilliant idea.

"I know how to cheer him up!" I think aloud.

Operation: Cheer Up Loki commences.

I wait and wait for him to return. I have no idea what he's up to, but I know he's up to no good.

I hear a door open and close, as I am dozing off once again. I open my eyes to see a very disheartened Loki. He doesn't even find time to yell at me.

"What's wrong, brother?"

He only sighs.

It seems he failed miserably at whatever he tried to do.

"Loki…I have an idea."

"What…" he grumbles with sadness in his voice.

"Come with me."

I drag him off of my sofa, and teleport to the best place for us to be right now.

The Blue Pheasant, which is the best pub in existence out of all of the pubs I have been to over the years.

"Where are we?" he demands.

"You have not been here before?"

"It smells of liquor. I am no mood for this."

"Well, that's too bad."

We steal, er, get an unoccupied seat at the bar.

"Two of those, please," as I point to the next guy's boilermaker.

"Please, no. I'm not in the mood," Loki complains.

I give him the death stare.

He then obliges.

The bartender looks at me suspiciously.

"How old are you?"

"Eighteen." I then show him my ID, and yada yada yada.

Then, we are given our drinks. I like to call it liquid gold.

Loki and I both gulp our drinks down. I still see a frown on his face. We are going to need a lot more.

"Another," I say.

"Alright. You sure you can handle it?" the bartender asks unbelievably.

Really?

"Just give us the drinks," I say with an annoyed tone in my voice.

I can feel Loki's disapproving glare in the back of my head.

"What? You would do the same thing."

Loki then just smirks mischievously.

"I might as well go along with you, _Wendy._"

He. Did. NOT.

"What did you just call me?"

He gulps down his whole drink before replying.

"You heard me." He smirked some more.

Ugh. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. I drink my drink.

"Could we have two more please?" Loki politely says to the rude bartender.

"Uh, sure," bartender replies.

Seriously, I wonder why Loki is smiling like that. He only smiles like that when…

He has formed a mischievous plan in his mind.

Damn.

"Wendy. Would you like to partake in a…_drinking contest?_"

DAMN. And he called me Wendy again!

"You're on." I glare at him.

The drinks keep on coming. And we keep on drinking.

You know what else bothers me? It's when I act like a complete imbecile, especially when I'm drunk.

Loki is laughing about some _brilliant _trick he played on Thor once, involving pink hair dye, and I am laughing along.

Then, it happens.

My favorite song comes along, I get up on the bar and I start _singing._

"_I WANT IT ALL! I WANT IT ALL! I WANT IT ALL! AND I WANT IT NOW!"_

_Loki is now laughing like a mad genius. I hate him so much right now. _

_We are both thrown out._

_And I only remember blackness._

_I wake up the next morning to find Loki sitting right next to me. I feel awful. He has a smug look on his face. _

"_So, who do you think won this contest?"_

_Grrrrrrrrrrrrrr…._

_*Sigh* "You did, brother."_

_A big smile then formed on his face._

_FINALLY. He's happy. But, why don't I feel better. Damn, I have a gigantic headache!_

_Sometime later, I hear Loki shout that he has found his staff and it smells of liquor. Vodka to be exact. Some drunk girls messing with it perhaps?_

_I do not want to know._


End file.
